Arrogant Savior - Cocky Hero Club

“I hope you brought something else to wear,” he said, a sneer on his face.

And that broke the spell.

“Don’t worry about what I’m wearing,” I said, chin lifted high.

“I’m not.”

He spun around, although a bit awkwardly, as he was hunched so his head didn’t bump the ceiling.

I couldn’t help the snicker that escaped me. He stilled but didn’t turn. A second later, he closed himself into the cockpit, leaving me alone.

Forget about him, Jolene, I told myself. Remember what happened the last time you fell for a pilot.

Carter, “Tripp” as he was often called, Clynes had broken my heart into a thousand pieces and I would be damned if I let that happen again. Besides, this asshole had no interest in me. Not really. He liked what he saw. That much was obvious. But like all the other men—those who constantly hit on me and thought of me as some sort of slut—he didn’t really know me at all.TwoGrantRich girls thought they owned the world. I was looking forward to the day I didn’t fly another one on a spur-of-the-moment trip.

This one claimed to be going to see her grandmother. More than likely she needed more money to shop or travel or cement her claim on some inheritance. Whatever this was, this was the last time no matter how much my father begged me.

Monday wouldn’t come soon enough. My dream of flying the friendly skies on a Boeing 787 were coming.

My phone rang. I pressed the speaker. “Dad.”

“Is she on board?” he asked.

“You realize I’m not supposed to be talking on the phone.”

“But you are. You haven’t left yet.”

“No. Waiting on clearance, which could happen at any moment.”

“So she’s on board?”

“Yes. Jolene Jameson is stowed in the back.”

“Good. Get her to New York.”

“You realize I might not make it. If that storm gains momentum—”

“Get her there. We need this client.”

“Dad, you need him. I’m done after this. We’ve talked about it. Besides, he owns a fleet of airlines. He’s never going to use you outside of the odd job.”

“And you’re going to work for him,” he retorted.

“This was never my dream and you know it,” I said.

“You wouldn’t have this job if you hadn’t hooked up with his daughter.”

I didn’t bother to correct him for how he saw my relationship with her. He saw things his own way. Besides, explaining what happened between us couldn’t be done in the short time I had before takeoff.

I gritted my teeth and instead gave him the short version. “We’re friends.”

She’d become a little too clingy even after I’d made it clear where we stood. Still, she’d offered to get me the interview.

“Whatever. Get Jameson to New York,” he commanded.

While I should have hung up, curiosity made me ask. “Who is she to him?”

She being Jolene.

“Does it matter? He paid for the trip.”

Disgust filled me as I realized she was likely his mistress. What some women did for money. I shook my head. “I have to go.”

The tower was radioing me. I hung up and settled in. The first seven minutes of the flight were always a rush. It was one of the most adrenaline pushing times. Most planes that failed did so at takeoff or landing.

I pushed the leggy brunette from my thoughts. She was a stunner, especially in that red see-through number with a swimsuit underneath. The spiky flesh-colored heels with matching red bottoms made her legs appear like they went on for days. It was like she walked off the beach and decided to go to New York where a massive snowstorm was on the way. I shouldn’t care she wasn’t dressed for the weather. Likely whoever picked her up would have a wardrobe waiting for her.

As I taxied to the runway, I cleared my thoughts. Though my dick wasn’t in agreement. It had risen to the occasion imagining her straddling me on this very seat and showing me just how grateful she was that I was taking her to see Grandma.

Picturing a little gray-haired woman was all it took for me to get my thoughts on track as I lined up on the runway.

“Alfa Romeo Tango Zulu. You are cleared for takeoff,” came through my headset.

And so it began. I pushed up on the throttle. The speed increased, as did my excitement, and what I loved about flying began.

When I hit our cruising altitude, I flipped the switch so I could speak to my passenger.

“You are now free to move about the cabin. When seated, please keep your seat belt fastened for any unexpected turbulence.”

I smiled at myself, wondering if that’s what I’d say when I captained my first flight for Skyland Airlines in a Boeing 787 or an Airbus A330.

The plane I flew now was fine and allowed me to fly solo under the exemption granted by the FAA based on my current pilot rating. But my dream was always bigger than private jets.